The Death Eater Project
by Lady Yvaine
Summary: Harry Potter AU. In an effort to force compliance, The Ministry, led by Tom Riddle, created a force called the Death Eaters. Their goal? To defend innocents against the rebel Order. With their Godlike gifts, 20 teens 'protect' their realm. LOOSELY BASED ON GREEK MYTH.
1. Prologue

"I'm sorry, Harry. I'm so, so sorry." Lily Potter crouched before the creaky, antique crib where her young son cowered, whimpering in fear.

"Step away from the boy and I may spare you, Potter," the high, commanding voice said, pacing ever closer. "We just want the boy. Just him. We have no need for your blood, my girl. Move slowly away and you shall be spared."

The lie struck her squarely in the chest, striking a new blaze of fury in the hearts of her green eyes. This intruder had no intention of sparing her life, nor that of her husband's. He wanted them dead. All of them. All defectors were to be eliminated under Riddle's militant regime- no exceptions or exclusions. No mercy.

"No!" She growled, tendrils of red hair plastered to her damp face. "You can't have him. Not my son." Lily splayed her arms protectively in front of the crib where her only son sat. "Please, I beg you, spare him. I know I must die, but spare my son. He's a baby. Just a baby. No threat to you or yours. Please," Lily winced at the desperate whine in her own voice, but she would do anything- say anything- to insure Harry's survival.

The cold, sharp laughter that rang out from the line of black-clad figures sent a shiver up Lily's stiff spine. The head of the shadowy pack seemed to take note of her sudden change of demeanor, reveling in the cracks in her strength. "You must not know who I am, my darling. No, " he shook his head in mock disappointment, hood sliding upward, threatening to fall. "I will spare him, Potter. In fact, I have plans for your boy. He is to be honored with a noble task. You should be proud. If he succeeds, he will be remembered in infamy, his fame only superseded by my own. Take heart in that, dear girl."

"You can't have him," Lily felt her son shift behind her, no doubt pressing his chubby face against the bars of his crib. Her eyes began to water, but Lily refused to allow her tears to escape. Her beloved husband would never show this man that he was afraid, and neither would she.

"You believe you can stop me?" The pure amusement in his tone threatened to weaken her resolve; she was no match for him, she knew. Yes, she was courageous and powerful, but she was no opponent for a dark one like Riddle and his allies.

Lily's chin went up in defiance regardless. "I'll give it my best go, Riddle."

He paced closer, impatience evident in the line of figures behind him. In unison, they shifted forward, leaning in to watch- spectators watching sport./span/p

Lily chanced a glance behind her. Harry's frightened eyes met hers. The steady green of them soothed her mother's heart. Her baby was so innocent in all of this, so uninflected by the evil of the world he had been born into. "I love you, Harry," Lily breathed to him, a sad smile touching her lips.

Harry raised his face closer to his mother's, a thick stream of tears sliding down his round cheeks. "Mama?"

"I tried to keep you from this, Harry, my angel. But I failed you. I'm sorry. I'm-"

"Enough! Enough of this blubbery! Move or we will be forced to kill you, Lily Potter, just as we killed the others-your compatriots."

Lily shuddered. Fabian and Gideon Prewitt, Edgar Bones, Natalia Edgecombe and Andros McNair all dead because of Tom riddle and his Loyalists.

"Last warning," Riddle hissed coldly.

Lily took his words for what they were- a promise. Her eyes searched for the familiar stoic gaze of her once-best-friend. With a start, she met the agonized, pleading stare of Severus Snape. His hood had fallen free from his head, revealing a black curtain of hair and the oddly comforting dip of his hooked nose. Lily had always loved his face. It was so honest, or so she had thought. His normally cold eyes seemed to bore into hers.

Lily bit her lip anxiously. Hot tears fell freely down her face, mirroring that of her son's. "Sev," she croaked.

His gaze seemed to search hers for one, infinite moment. The pleading she found there was a punch in the stomach. Please, his gaze seemed to say, choose me.

Lily stared back steadily, drinking in her last glimpse of the man she had loved since childhood. "I can't."

His shoulders sagged in defeat, knowing where her heart belonged, and yet denying it all the same.

"Very well," Riddle bit out. "I tried to be merciful, to be forgiving, but in vain. You've made your choice, girl." And with that, he snapped his fingers imperiously. The foreboding line of onlookers snapped to attention, advancing on her.

"So sorry." But this time, her apology was not meant for her son's ears, but the lost friend she so yearned to know again.

As the band in black advanced on her, Lily reached a hand behind her and cupped her son's soft head soothingly. "Close your eyes, Harry," whispered Lily and Harry obeyed.

AIt was not until the young woman's furious scream echoed around the tiny nursery that Harry's green eyes snapped open again. BY then, it was too late. Lily Potter was already gone.

A **uthor's Note**

 **This story is really close to my heart. The Snape/Lily dynamic in this story came to me a while ago while I was rereading the series. I wanted to capture what their relationship would be like as adults in an alternate reality created by my science-focused mind. In this story, the gang and a few others navigate through a totalitarian society. Of course, there is a twist... Or five-million. It wouldn't be a story of my creation without the odd twist. Please rate review! I love hearing what you all have to/strong say.**


	2. Chapter One

Lightning struck, radiant and elusive, untouchable as mist. White-hot light filled the chilly room as acrid, metallic fumes stifled the crisp breeze blowing through the shattered window. The rigid figure still lay there, motionless, as if in a deep slumber. But she was not asleep. No, the beautiful woman with the fiery hair had already begun to grow cold. The ice stealing over her body leeched into the surroundings, crawling toward the splintered remains of the wooden crib.

Harry let out a soft whine, rocking forward onto his knees. The woman- his mother- wouldn't get up. He wanted her to get up, to move, to do something. But she remained as distant as the pale stars that peeked in through the remains of the Potter home's crumbling ceiling. They winked at him from on high, benevolently observing his family's destruction.

Creak!

Harry flinched at the harsh sound. Someone was coming. The rough scrip-scrap of tiny fingers shoving away bits of debris suddenly broke off as Harry finally reached the prone form of his mother though he could not remember consciously deciding to go to her at all.

"Mama?" He whispered, prodding the frozen cheek closest to his chubby palm. "Mama? Find daddy." Surely his mother would react to that; his mother loved his father with a ferocity only challenged by the love she had for her only son.

Lily remained motionless, her green gaze unfocused & foggy.

Creak!

Harry jumped. The noise sounded closer than before. He curled against his mother's side, tucking himself into a tight ball at her hip like he did whenever he was plagued by bad dreams. His chubby, three-year-old body only just fir there, but his mother had never minded.

"Get the boy!" A gravelly voice ordered from just outside the bedroom door. "Find Harry Potter!"

"Mama, please!" Harry could not help but weep now. Hot, fat tears streamed from his eyes to fall against his mother's soft, dark blue jumper. Harry inhaled her soothing, light-as-air scent. His tears fell faster then, for he knew what had taken his mother from him. He knew now why she remained frozen, her expression a mask of fear and regret and agony unlike any he had ever seen upon her lovely face.

"Go, Selwyn!" the familiar voice called again. "Go before they return, our Lord commands it. Go!"

The bedroom door swung open, its hinges disengaging with a metallic pop. A short, stout man entered, his face hidden behind a silver mask. Just behind him, a taller, much thinner man loomed. His was face uncovered but an identical silver mask was tucked at his waist. Both men made quick work of the room, shifting the rubble and overturned furniture, their eyes darting about in search of something-or someone. Harry wriggled nervously against his mother's side, nearly hidden in the folds of her oversized, sweet smelling jumper. The taller man seemed familiar to him, somehow.

"We must find the boy!" the taller man snapped impatiently as he kicked aside an amber bottle. It rolled toward him, clinking against the ground, stoping just inches from the woman's outstretched hand. The man glanced down then, staring at Harry's mother for a long minute. His black eyes grew dark around the edges, shimmering with a scant, though inherently profound wetness.

Harry raised his fingers to his own damp eyes, marveling, his tiny mouth gone wide.

The tall man's gaze locked onto Harry in that movement, meeting the toddler's eyes steadily. "Stop, Selwyn. I've got him. Go inform our Lord. Now."

The stout man, Selwyn, shuffled out of the room quickly, bowing his head to his superior.

The tall man knelt beside Harry's mother, brushing the back of his left hand over her porcelain cheek. "I'm here," he choked out, rubbing a thumb along her cheekbone. "Lily. I've got him now. It's for the best, you know. It's for the best. You'd have been safer without him, but you had to keep him-I warned you. But it's over now. No one can hurt you now. You'll be safe now. I've seen to that."

Harry whimpered again, digging his hands into his mother's jumper, tugging himself closer to her stiff body.

The tall man's face hardened to stone. In a single deft movement, he scooped Harry up into his arms after almost callously detaching him from the body of the woman he loved. "Potter," he muttered, hauling Harry against his chest, "The Dark Lord will see to you now."

The tingle of cold metal registered to his senses first- cold metal and the bitter bite of industrial cleaning agents. Harry sucked in a ragged breath. He'd had the dream again, he realized at once. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't erase the images of the woman's slack face from his mind. She haunted him. The woman-Lily-abandoned him each morning only to accompany him into his nightmares. He was sure, more than ever, that this Lily-whomever she was, had been trying to tell him something.

Beeeeeeeeep!

The insistent buzzing echoed through his living quarters, announcing the start of another day.

Harry swung his legs over the side of his narrow bed, placing his bare feet on the icy, metallic floor. He winced but refused to pull away from the sensation. Instead, Harry straightened, strode over to the sink tucked away in a corner and briskly scrubbed at his slightly scruffy face with a damp cloth. He needed a shave, he supposed, but Harry could not bring himself to bother. After swiftly dressing in a pair of loose grey sweatpants, a fitted white shirt and well-worn trainers, Harry crossed to the door and exited his quarters. He had finished in less than five minutes.

Around him, the other nineteen inhabitants of Basement Zero exited their quarters in a similar fashion. Like clockwork, twenty similarly dressed individuals silently formed two lines: one consisted of ten females; the other consisted of ten males. Harry stood at the front of the line of males. To his left, a girl with neartly braided blonde hair stared straight ahead, her gaze deliberately vacant, trained on the wall ahead of them.

Penelope.

Harry fought the grin that threatened to crack across his face. She was fuming, he could see it in the set of her jaw. No doubt Fred had done something to provoke her once again. Harry would have to congratulate his friend at some point. Torturing the peremptory Penelope brought on a bout of laughter to nearly every resident of Basement Zero- even Percy, whose self-righteous manner rivaled Penelope's.

Another buzzer sounded, this one a low, short beep. In unison, twenty bodies noiselessly marched into the underground training facility, their faces set in uniform expressions of bland vacancy.

A spindly-limbed, wild-haired woman met them just inside the training room, her beady eyes gleaming with maniacal delight. "Hello, my darlings," she called, punctuating her greeting with a snorting cackle. "Ready for another morning of fun, eh?"

"Fun?" Muttered a deep, male voice. "Is she mental?"

Harry bit back laugh.

"Like you didn't know," another, slightly softer, voice replied.

Harry recognized the voices, of course. After more than fifteen years, he and his comrades were intimately acquainted with each another.

The first speaker, a red-haired boy called Ron, scoffed, "Bellatrix is a sadist. No doubt about it."

"Really? What gave it away?" Fred asked, mock surprise clear in his tone. "You're a genius, Ronald, my boy."

"Today," Bellatrix announced, her arms waving about grandly, "you will each be assessed on your capability in the field. If you should succeed in impressing me," she gave them a skeptical sneer before turning away again, "you may be chosen to embark on a historic mission to defend our great country against the enemy."

"The enemy?" Percy asked, scratching his head. "You mean the rebels?"

"Of course I do, you stupid boy. Pay attention!" She snapped her fingers impatiently. "Now, as I was saying-"

"But they're so experienced and- well, rebellious," Vincent mumbled. "Do we even stand a chance? I'm not sure I really want to..."

"Shut up, you cowardly creature!" She barked. "The next child to interrupt me will be given to the Carrows, understood?"

No one responded.

"Good," Bellateix beamed maliciously. "Now, who shall demonstrate their abilities first? Hmm..." She scanned the crowd thoughtfully, her long-nailed fingers tapping against her chin. "Ah, let's start with Neville!" Her dark eyes glinted hungrily as she watched him. "Come here, boy."

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Please leave me your feedback! Make predictions, ask questions, leave critiques. I can't wait to hear from you all. What do you reckon will happen next? Is this story too predictable? The next installment will be very soon!


	3. Chapter 2

"Not again," Neville, a blond-haired and somewhat pudgy boy, muttered under his breath as he stepped out of line, shuffling forward on wobbly legs. "Why is it always me?"

"Why is it always you?!" the lead trainer of Basement Zero cackled madly, twirling a dark curl around along-nailed finger. "Because, my sweet, you are my very favorite, aren't you?"

Harry winced. To be madam Lestrange's favorite was a far worse sentence than a day with the Carrows. He would happily choose their calculated cruelty over her brand of sadistic and macabre torture any day.

"Now," madam Lestrange continued, eyes gleaming under the harsh lighting of the training facility, "step into the middle of the practice mat."

After aiming a wide-eyed glance at the red-haired girl to his left, Neville approached the slippery blue mat and entered the painstakingly drawn white chalk circle at its center. The smooth, minimally cushioned material of the practice may squeaked noisily under his trainers as Neville shifted from foot to foot, his eyes fixed on his restless feet.

"Good, good," Bellatrix practically crooned as she circled him, her wicked grin as wide as a beast's that has ensnared its prey in an inescapable trap. "And what will you be showing us today?"

Neville gulped, his eyes shooting upward to meet those of the red-haired girl, Ginny. She nodded encouragingly, giving a thumbs-up before falling back into the soldier's stance in which all but Neville stood.

"I c-could demonstrate my skills with a blade. I've been pr-practicing," Neville stammered, knitting his clammy hands in the hem of his shirt.

Bellatrix's coldly amused smile was more of a belittling smirk when she spoke next. "Have you? That's interesting," she commented, staring pointedly at Ginny who, to her credit, stared back with more than a hint of open hatred in her brown eyes. "But no. Perhaps you can impress another time. For today," she announced, gesturing toward the line of girls with a careless flick of her hand, "you will perform for us with the help of your little red-haired girlfriend," she clapped her hands gleefully,

When Ginny would have protested, arms folded stubbornly over her chest, another much slighter girl stepped forward on trembling legs. Gentle waves of red hair flicked under the harsh, low-hanging lights as Susan strode purposefully onto the mat, her face flushed but otherwise clear of anything but the freckles that graced her nose and cheeks.

Snarling in annoyance, madam Lestrange darted forward to shackle the girl's arm between two of her bony fingers. "I didn't mean you, stupid girl! I meant that one!" She jabbed a finger in Ginny's direction.

But as Ginny, face gone white as a sheet, lurched forward to push Susan away from the mat, Susan carefully sidestepped, nearly avoiding Ginny's desperate maneuver. Their gazes locked for a long, tense eternity before Ginny reclaimed her place in line. Harry watched as guilty tears moistened Ginny's brown eyes though he knew she would never let them fall; she was far too proud for that.

"As touching as this is," madam Lestrange broke in, her face suddenly tight, "we have work to do. And," she continued as she roughly shoved Susan toward Neville, "if you are so eager to humiliate yourself, then by all means."

Her vaguely raspy voice held an imperious ring, as though a clock chime had bonged within her, signaling the start of something only she would enjoy.

"Why did you do that?" Neville whispered, his eyes searching Susan's face as they took their places opposite one another.

A slim shoulder rose and fell, her hair gliding down her back as she moved. "Because," Susan breathed, "I couldn't stand by and watch you hurt Ginny. And she wouldn't hurt you."

Neville blinked, "and you thought I wouldn't mind hurting you-killing you?"

Susan gave a gentle laugh, her palm going to rest over her heart. "No, silly, don't you see?"

Neville shook his head.

Susan just sighed, her smile, though brief, was full of affectionate irritation. "Do you trust me?"

His jerky nod was immediate.

"Thank you," Susan beamed, patting his cheek once. "Now, let's give them a show." Without another word, Susan launched herself at Neville, her skinny arms going around his neck, her spindly legs locking around his back in a vice-like hold.

"Hey!" Neville protested, his plump hands rising to claw at hers.

In response, Susan pressed closer, her arms squeezing even more tightly than before. As his face shifted from grayish-white to beet red, then into ghastly puce, Neville struggled to disentangle himself from Susan's spritely body. Harry knew that, though she was one of the smallest among them, Susan could be as scrappy and determined as Ginny. True, a more advanced fighter, like Oliver or Cedric, could have defeated her in mere seconds, but Susan and Neville were, for the most part, evenly matched.

"Come on then, you stupid boy," Bellatrix called, her eyes bright, "knock her off and take her out!" She paced around the rectangular mat, vulture-like, her body tense with withheld desires.

"Take her out?" Neville wheezed, his face now a pleasant shade of violet. "Wh-what?!"

"It's all right, Nev," Susan assured him, her voice oddly calm. "You can't hurt me."

"Finish her!" Bellatrix's beady-eyes stare seemed to swallow up the entire room as she screeched, her voice echoing off of the bare, stone walls and vaulted ceiling. "Finish her like I finished your parents, you coward!"

"Do not talk about my parents, hag!" Neville exploded. his his eyes gone completely black as if he stared into the pit of Tartarus, itself. A strong hand, quaking with repressed power, rose up from Neville's side and rested itself upon Susan's damp cheek.

Her limp body fell at his feet amount later as lifeless and pale as Lily's had been in Harry's dream just hours earlier.

"Excellent," puréed Bellatrix, stalking closer to where Neville still stood, his face. "You've improved, my pet." The relish in her voice sent shivers racing down Harry's back.

"Improved?" Neville bellowed, his voice thick with tears. "I've just ki-" Another, more guided sob wracked his body then. Neville dropped to his knees and cradled Susan against his lap. Her head lulled sideways, the whites of her eyes startling against the waxy gray that crept into her skin.

"Oh, that," Bellatrix waved a hand dismissively in Susan's general direction. "Yes, she's dead. She'll be disposed of soon enough, I'm sure. No matter, we must continue with your training, mustn't we?" Two dark, bushy eyebrows lifted toward the ceiling parallel to the disjointed line of twenty who gaped at her.

"You killed her!" Ginny screeched, lunging toward their deranged trainer.

With a grunt, Fred absorbed the impact of her attack. Two, long, freckled arms squeezed around her, pressing her against his chest. "No, Ginny. Don't."

As Harry looked down at the body of one of his closest friends, he felt something boiling my hot and acidic lick the insides of his skin. Bellatrix would pay for What she had done. Maybe not soon, but soon enough, perhaps- but soon.

"Why I did nothing of the sort, foolish girl. If anyone is to blame, it is you," eyes wide with false-innocence, Bellatrix strode toward the main door of the training room, the heels of her leather boots clicking against the floor. "I suppose you'll all want to have a respite considering today's excitement. Very well, Neville has earned such a treat," she flicked her gaze to take in Neville, her face lit by a sickly indulgent grin. "After all, he's finally managed to access his power. Isn't that something?" Without waiting for a response, Bellatrix exited, slamming the metal door behind her.

Author's Note

So much has happened in this chapter. As usual, submit your theories for me to read. They are my favorite sorts of comments. I am trying to keep this story from becoming too predictable, so if you think you know where this is going, let me know! On a similar note, what do you think of the characters? What happened between Susan and Neville? The next chapter will most likely be up next week, if not sooner. Thanks for reading!


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